


Edges of a Memory

by Calvatron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Transformers: Lost Light 25, The Transformers: Lost Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18485173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calvatron/pseuds/Calvatron
Summary: "DON'T FORGET ME"





	Edges of a Memory

Swerve always knew something wasn’t quite right.

The entire crew knew something was missing of course, even if they never spoke it out loud. There were too many inconsistencies to ignore. The office on the lower decks that none of them remembered, the way they all just… forgot… how they actually got the Matrices they used to save the universe and destroy the fake Primus, that gnawing feeling at the corners of their minds that they had lost something truly precious.

Swerve, Swerve remembered more. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the Meta-bomb he had detonated in Brainstorm’s lab so long ago, but… he had more specific memories. Trying to activate _a_ T-Cog. Shooting _someone_ in the head accidentally, then later trying to help that same _someone_ wake from a coma. He could almost see them, sitting in the corner of his bar, quietly assembling _something_ …. And then the memory would fade. It frustrated him. The name sat on the tip of his tongue, the last remnant of something he used to know.

He tried to mention this to Rewind once. Rewind had shrugged it off, pointing out that if there _had_ been another crew member, they’d be in his footage, right? Swerve had reluctantly conceded the point to him, and had left quickly. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that easily. Chromedome had refused to take a look at Swerve’s memories, especially after the latter bot admitted he had already sought out Rewind’s help.  If the ship had had a psychiatrist, he would have gone to him for help with this. But of course it didn’t.

Just once he had a single moment of clarity. He had sat down to have one last drink before closing the bar for the night when he spotted an object underneath one of the booths. He had picked it up. It was a small scale model of the Lost Light.

“Heh, good ol’ Rung,”

He paused. That had been it. He had just said the name. For one brief moment he recalled everything, and he ran to tell Rodimus. He decided he should repeat the name to himself so he didn’t forget again, only to realize that it was an idea that had come to him too late. It was already gone, and he was already starting to forget the entire incident.

He placed the small model ship prominently on a shelf behind the bar. He didn’t really know why.

**Author's Note:**

> yes! it's another procrastination angst-fest! surprised?  
> Anyway, as always, please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed this work, and I'll see you all next time.


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